


After the Gazebo

by austenfan1990



Series: The Sea Captain and the Governess [2]
Category: The Sound of Music - Rodgers/Hammerstein/Lindsay & Crouse
Genre: Canon Compliant, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24841483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/austenfan1990/pseuds/austenfan1990
Summary: If Maria needs proof that everything has changed, it is right in front of her, on that beloved, handsome face.A sequel to my other fic “I Must Go, Uncertain of My Fate”.
Relationships: Georg von Trapp/Maria von Trapp
Series: The Sea Captain and the Governess [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1811752
Comments: 10
Kudos: 40





	After the Gazebo

**Author's Note:**

> This fic came about solely as a result of Christopher Plummer’s ridiculously (and romantically) groggy ‘Maria, is there anyone I should go to, to ask permission to marry you’ which lives in my mind rent-free. Please file your complaints at the gazebo door. :)

‘Maria.’

Once again, he hardly recognises his voice, a groggy, half-whisper as they break for air. At this rate, he wonders if they would ever return to the house, drunk as they are on love.

‘Hmm?’ she murmurs, her mouth still close to his.

Georg shivers as her fingers trace the nape of his neck. The sliver of bare skin there is proving irresistible to her and for good reason. His suit was his armour; impenetrable, imposing, and much like himself. Having found the chink in it and through to his heart, she was now trying to get to know him. It would be a two-way process, certainly. Much as Maria wore her heart on her sleeve, he realises he too has much to learn about his fiancée.

Fiancée! How strange and yet how right it feels when, not half an hour ago, he thought she was lost to him entirely.

The wind outside is picking up and she trembles against him. He pulls back.

‘You’re cold.’

‘No, not really.’ Maria begins to protest – how could she be when she was positively burning inside – then stops in her tracks. He is removing his jacket, which he drapes over her shoulders. She catches a glimpse of a shy smile in the moonlight.

‘Better?’

She nods, then says without thinking: ‘I’ve never seen you without your jacket.’

‘No, I don’t think I’ve ever taken it off in front of you.’ That shy smile again. ‘Do you… approve?’

‘Very much.’

His lips quirk. How wonderful that such a stern mouth could be so soft and gentle, especially against her own…

‘Maria…’ His breath is warm on her lips as his hands rest on her shoulders. ‘We should get back. Much as I’d love to stay here all night with you.’ His hand gently finds her cheek again and – like a few minutes before – she tilts her head slightly to kiss his palm. And like before, he swears he will never tire of the feeling.

He offers his arm and they walk back, the moon glowing high like a spotlight above them.

* * *

When Maria wakes the next morning, she ends up staring at her bedroom ceiling for some time. Nothing, it seems, has changed. The early morning sun is streaming through the curtains. Someone below her window is whistling, no doubt the gardener, and her carpet bag is where she had put it last night, on the chair beside her bed where she had not bothered to unpack it.

Surprise had been her foremost reaction upon seeing her room again; even in her despair, she noted it was exactly as she left it several days before. She had half-expected it to be cleared out, perhaps with Frau Schmidt taking a thorough broom to it. Her blue dress – which she considered too fine to bring to the abbey – had still hung in the closet. Without thinking, she had pulled it on and gone down. It was only when Georg had stilled in the doorway of the dining room, his eyes transfixed, that she remembered the import of it and mourned.

‘It was agony, thinking you were good as married then,’ she confesses to him after breakfast as they walk beside the lake, their shoulders occasionally touching. Georg stops to look at her. If Maria needs proof that everything has changed, it is right in front of her, on that beloved, handsome face. There, the longing to touch her cheek, to take her hand is breathtakingly evident. But they have not yet told the children of their engagement – their current topic of discussion – and he makes do by stepping fractionally closer.

‘Oh, Maria,’ he says in a voice so low that makes her shiver. ‘It was the same for me, too. I thought I was doing the right thing until I saw your face again on the terrace. I knew then I was about to make the greatest mistake of my life.’

She flushes slightly, unused to being described in such terms. ‘You make it sound like I’m your saviour.’

A curious expression crosses his countenance, his eyes widening in realisation. When he speaks, he sounds almost breathless. ‘You are. Truly, you _are_.’

He touches her then, taking her by the hand and pulling the two of them behind a tree and out of sight.

When their lips part several delicious moments later, she smiles into his collar: ‘This would be a fine way for the children to find out, Georg.’

His chuckle rumbles deep in his chest, against her ear and straight to her heart. ‘I wouldn’t mind. Not at this point. Not when kissing you is like heaven.’ He leans in for another, but she lays a hand against his pristine shirtfront.

‘Someone’s coming.’

They scrape together a semblance of propriety when Franz appears, his face inscrutable. If he has seen anything, he says nothing. ‘Sir, the Baroness is ready to depart.’

Georg’s expression slips a bit. ‘Thank you, Franz.’

The butler takes his leave.

‘We’ll tell the children, just as we planned, when I get back from the station,’ says Georg, turning to her. ‘I shan’t be long.’

‘Let me come with you. To the car, at least. I’d like to say… goodbye.’

‘Are you sure? Even with all that’s happened?’

She had told him all about it last night, just before they had gone their respective ways to bed. Maria hadn’t wanted to reveal what Elsa had told her the night of the party, but he had wanted to know everything. The revelation was startling, but both agreed they felt sorry for Elsa, more than anything else.

She nods, steeling herself. ‘Yes, I’m sure.’

He kisses her forehead with tender pride. ‘My love.’

* * *

‘Are we in trouble, Fräulein Maria?’

‘Is Father angry with us?’

‘Is this to do with Baroness Schraeder?’

Whisked away from their lessons upstairs to the sitting room, the children are doubly restless, their confusion vocalised in a barrage of questions. Maria smiles. After all, being bombarded thus is an everyday occurrence. The last one, however, gives her pause.

‘Baroness Schraeder? What makes you say that, Kurt?’

Kurt shrugs. ‘We didn’t talk to her much at dinner last night. Maybe she felt ignored. Maybe that’s why she left this morning.’

Brigitta interjects pointedly. ‘And _maybe_ that’s what _I_ thought. _You_ thought it was because you put salt in her coffee.’

Her brother’s reaction – and their siblings – is immediate. ‘Shhhh!’

‘Kurt, _what_ _on earth_ –’ Maria begins.

‘Be quiet, Brigitta!’

‘I told you shouldn’t have done it, Kurt!’

‘Children…’ Maria’s voice barely rises above the sudden tumult. Just when it threatens outright bickering, another voice joins the fray.

‘Hello, hello, hello, what’s all this about?’ Seven heads snap towards the double doors where Georg is standing, hair slightly windswept from his drive into town. Maria’s gaze lingers on him a moment longer than necessary, before turning quickly away.

Kurt leaps past his siblings, head bowed and suddenly contrite. ‘I’m sorry for putting salt in the Baroness’s coffee. I promise I won’t do it again.’

Georg blinks, flummoxed. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Maria biting back a laugh.

‘Well, right, I’m glad you owned up to that, Kurt.’

Kurt’s eyes peer up, wide and hopeful. ‘May we be excused now?’

‘Not yet.’

‘But I’ve owned up to it!’

‘Yes, but that isn’t quite what I wanted to speak to you about. Sit down, children. Please.’ Wary looks flicker between them; they’re in bigger trouble than they thought.

He draws a chair close to them and leans forward. ‘Children, I’ve got something very important to ask you.’

Liesl stares at him, wondering if she’s misheard. ‘Ask _us_ , Father?’

‘Just so, Liesl. I realise that my announcement yesterday morning came as a shock to you all –’

A mumbled, melancholy chorus of groans.

‘– and so I’d like very much to do it properly this time.’ Georg takes his time to look into each of their faces, each now a picture of relived misery.

‘Properly?’ pipes up Gretl, puzzled.

‘Yes, properly, darling. By asking you all for your permission to re-marry.’ Seven pairs of sceptical eyes burn into him, all too clear that it’s the last thing in the world they’d grant.

He exhales slowly, measuredly, not daring to look over at Maria’s beautiful face in case it ruins the whole effect.

‘May I have it, children?’

Silence. Eventually, under their father’s earnest gaze and with a last despairing glance towards their governess, one by one they quietly murmur their assent – though with their eyes glued to the floor.

‘Yes, Father.’

‘I hope you’ll be very happy, Father.’

Georg smiles. ‘Thank you, that means a lot to me. To both of us.’

He stands. ‘Now, I think your soon-to-be new mother really needs very little introduction. Maria?’

He says her name so gently, in a tone which takes even the children by surprise. He extends his hand to her. Beaming, she goes over to him and grasps it firmly. There can be no mistaking what has occurred.

‘Oh!’ exclaims Brigitta softly, her dark eyes darting delightedly between them both.

‘Father…’ Liesl rises to her feet, mirrored by the rest of her brothers and sisters. The mood in the room is transformed, positively buzzing with excitement. ‘Fräulein Maria, is it really true?’

‘I’m afraid so. Brace yourself, children,’ says Georg with a wink to Maria, as the children begin to crowd around them.

She gives him a good-humoured nudge in return. ‘Oh, Captain.’


End file.
